


The Closest I Ever Gave

by hesterbyrde



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Facial Shaving, M/M, Porn, Sex, Shaving, Shaving Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:37:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/pseuds/hesterbyrde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will pulled the wad of stained toilet paper away from his jaw and angled his head back. The flow of blood had slowed to a lazy ooze. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Hannibal. “How come I never see you with any shaving cuts?”</p><p>“Most of the time, shaving injuries from blades are caused by dull edges.” Hannibal explained as he applied the glue, holding Will steady as he winced.</p><p>“So what. You always use new razor blades?”</p><p>“I use a straight razor.”</p><p>Will blinked. “Oh. I might’ve guessed. I’ve never used one.”</p><p>“They take some practice, but I find it to be far superior to disposable razors. Would you like me to show you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Closest I Ever Gave

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! I come bearing my very late offering for the #JustFuckMeUp challenge. I was on vacation when the entries were due, but I'm told they're taking latecomers so here I am!
> 
> The kink in question for this fic is shaving kink. Many years ago, I read a piece of M/F shaving erotica by Twisted Monk, and was intrigued. And then Emungere's latest chapters in her fic "Remedy for Love" had some not-exactly-sexual shaving sequences... so those two are to blame for this.
> 
> The fic title comes from Sweeney Todd because I'm a complete hack who thinks they're clever and hilarious.
> 
> Many thanks to KaminaDuck for beta reading. But there might still be mistakes... this was mostly typed on train rides around Europe using my iPhone.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments give me life. And thanks also go out to the challenge organizers. I've really enjoyed getting to read and see all the amazing work that's come out of this.
> 
> All the best and enjoy!

“I must thank you again,” Hannibal said as he cleared away their dessert plates. “For your indulgence these last few days. The attack in my office has weighed far less on my mind for your presence.”

Will shrugged rather offhandedly, turning to watch him go. “You act like it was some great hardship on my part. All I’ve been doing is eating your amazing food and taking up space in your house.” It was true. Each night after work, Hannibal had contrived some reason for Will to visit. Be it a book, or dinner, or a drink. All very cordial and superficial, yet there was a subtle undercurrent to it all that Will had to fight for all he was worth to keep from analyzing. Hannibal deserved better than to be picked apart like a crime scene. 

He heard Hannibal give a low chuckle in response from the other room. “You and I both know your company is far more enjoyable than simply taking up space, as you put it.”

Will shrugged again but didn’t respond. He heard the sound of what he suspected to be the pouring of coffee, and a moment later Hannibal returned with steaming porcelain cups the color of bleached bone.

“Thank you.” Will murmured as he took his with both hands. He'd probably had textbooks in college that were cheaper than this cup.

“I supposed you’ll need it for the ride back.”

Will cocked his head at Hannibal’s unmistakably disappointed tone. “You don’t sound happy about that.”

It was Hannibal’s turn to shrug as he sipped at his coffee. “I must admit I… like the idea of keeping you close. After what happened with Budge.”

Will blinked. They hadn't discussed what had happened in Hannibal's office before now. “I can't imagine you feel the need for my protection.”

“Not entirely. Not so much as… I have entertained a fantasy of late. Of what might have happened if you had been there when Budge attacked Franklin and me. What would you have done?” Will’s brow puckered as he waited for Hannibal to go on, but instead he have a small, humorless laugh. “Who would have thought we would be switching places? Me telling you about the secret clockwork of my mind.”

A thick silence stretched between them, and Will scruffed a hand over his face as he scrambled for something to say. His nail found a rough edge and he pulled back with a wince, his fingers tinged a rusty red. 

“Damn it.” he swore. He’d scratched open a cut from shaving he’d given himself a few days ago. His first instinct was to grab a napkin, but the fine squares of linen on Hannibal’s table would probably be ruined by a bloodstain. Instead, he just pressed his knuckle to the cut. “Can I use your bathroom?”

Hannibal had risen to his feet. “Through there.” he pointed and Will followed his gesture. 

“Thanks.” he grumbled as he shuffled awkwardly from the room. He could hear Hannibal follow him after a moment. Probably to help him find a bandaid.

Hannibal had actually pointed him to his bedroom, and the adjoining master bath which was bigger than Will’s bedroom back in Wolf Trap. Will tried his level best not to note anything in Hannibal’s bedroom as he passed by. Not the giant bed. Or the plush duvet that probably cost more than his car. Or the gilt mirror hanging at a suspicious angle over the fireplace.

“Cut myself shaving.” He muttered as he investigated it in the mirror before helping himself to some toilet paper to stop the bleeding. “I keep pulling it open.”

“I have some surgical glue in the top drawer on your left. It might help keep that from happening.” Hannibal offered from the doorway behind him.

“Isn’t that the stuff boxers use to close cuts?”

“The very same.” Hannibal said, already moving into the bathroom to retrieve it. “May I?”

“Please.” Will pulled the wad of stained toilet paper away from his jaw and angled his head back. The flow of blood had slowed to a lazy ooze. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Hannibal. “How come I never see you with any shaving cuts?”

“Most of the time, shaving injuries from blades are caused by dull edges.” Hannibal explained as he applied the glue, holding Will steady as he winced.

“So what. You always use new razor blades?”

“I use a straight razor.”

Will blinked. “Oh. I might’ve guessed. I’ve never used one.”

“They take some practice, but I find it to be far superior to disposable razors. Would you like me to show you?”

Will blinked again, turning to look Hannibal squarely in the face. “On me?” his voice creaked around the question.

Hannibal nodded. His implacable mask was set in place as always, but something glittered recklessly in the inky recesses of his eyes. Something that said this was about more than choices in shaving equipment.

“Okay.” Will heard himself say, half convinced it was the wine from dinner talking.

“If you would please, go to the dining room and bring me one of the chairs. I have a few things to set up.”

Will went, wondering distantly if he was sleepwalking again. Or dreaming. The surreality of the situation was numbing. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to be even a little bit surprised.

When he arrived with the chair, Hannibal was drawing his straight razor over a leather strap. Will stopped in the doorway, chair still in hand as he watched. The movement was hypnotic. Not unlike watching Hannibal cook or draw. His hands drew the eye in their precise motion. 

Hannibal caught him watching and smiled. “This keeps the blade in true so there is less drag on your skin. Set the chair here in front of the sink and have a seat.”

Will did as he was bade, as Hannibal set the razor aside and took a moment to wrap Will’s shoulders with a soft, white towel, carefully tucking it in around his collar. Then he turned his attention to the small, white shaving mug, stirring the contents with the fat silver-handled shaving brush before turning to Will. 

“It’s warm.” Will noted, when the thick foam touched his face.

“Keeps the skin relaxed. Cold skin will have goosebumps, which lead to unfortunate incidents like the cut you already have.” Hannibal replied. “Normally, a professional barber would wrap your face in a hot towel for several minutes before beginning.”

As he talked Will felt his eyes slide closed, his head falling back against the plush cushion on the chair. The brush was soft, and the shaving foam being painted over his skin felt like frothy heaven. And the sound of Hannibal’s voice was wonderfully soothing. More so than he had ever remembered before. Maybe it really was the glass of wine he’d had with dinner. Or the feel of Hannibal's steady fingertips cradling his throat.

The click of the razor being picked up brought Will back to reality somewhat. He opened his eyes to see Hannibal looming above him with a wholly solemn expression. It seemed as if he was about to say something, but the words were irretrievably stuck somewhere behind his teeth, so instead he pressed the edge of the razor to Will’s cheek.

The blade barely made a sound as it slid over his skin. And Hannibal’s hands were so steady, that Will wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t moving of its own accord. Had it been anyone else dragging a blade over his face, he probably couldn’t have kept still. But this was Hannibal. Will had already trusted him with far more delicate matters than his face, and Hannibal had been a surgeon after all. From his position, Will had no trouble picturing him looking much the same in the operating room. And feeling himself as his patient, drowsy with anesthesia, melting into the bed.

As the razor passed over his face in broad strokes, Will found his mind drawn to the image of Hannibal’s bed, with its ridiculously plush pile of decorative pillows. He wondered foggily what sort of sheets Hannibal had under that expensive duvet. Cotton with a thread count over a thousand? Or would he go straight for satin? Will could almost feel the cool, clean material against the hot skin of his back.

The feel of warm terry cloth against his freshly shorn face brought Will forcibly back to reality.

“You seemed lost for a moment, Will. Are you well?” Hannibal asked, as he looked over his handiwork.

“I'm fine.” Will stammered, his hand flying up to feel Hannibal’s handiwork. The skin was shockingly smooth, and he found he couldn’t bring himself to look at his reflection. “I think I didn't expect it to be quite so relaxing.” 

“Yes, I imagine you have few opportunities for such an indulgence.” Hannibal replied, picking through the tiny bottles in his medicine cabinet before producing a bottle of aftershave. “May I?”

Will nodded and Hannibal measured out some of the liquid into his palm. The fragrance spun out into the room like a drug spreading through the blood. Nothing about the scent was in any way harsh, like Will’s cheap cologne. This smelled bright and clean, like a rush of mountain air that carried the promise of deep snow. The feel of Hannibal’s hands directly on his skin sent Will’s head reeling. Every movement was firm and sure. Will sighed softly, so lost in the sensation that he couldn't stop a tiny moan from escaping.

He jerked at the sound, his eyes flying open to meet Hannibal’s gaze. He stood over him, the shadows gathered in every crevice of his face and a raw look of want written plainly on his features. The application of the balm slowly became a caress as they regarded each other.

Will licked his lips. “I guess now you think I have a shaving fetish, in addition to whatever else might be wrong with me.” His voice shook noticeably.

“Nothing wrong with a fetish, though often they disguise other unmet needs.” Hannibal replied. His hand still had not left Will’s smooth cheek.

“Aren't you off the clock, Doctor?” Will managed to give a tremulous but still wry smirk.

“Always with you.” Came the response with an answering smile.

“So what does a shaving fetish imply that I'm missing?”

“Trust. Both in yourself and in someone else. To let me take a straight razor to a very sensitive part of you is quite an act of trust.”

“Do people with these fetishes only shave faces?” The question was rampaging out of Will’s mouth before he could hope to restrain it.

“No.” Hannibal replied, clearly weighing his next statement carefully on the scales behind his black eyes. “Often more vulnerable and arousing areas are shaved.”

Hannibal was giving ground so easily, Will couldn't stop himself from pressing him further. He craned his head back. “Show me?”

Hannibal swallowed visibly. “You're sure? I wouldn't want you to feel coerced.”

“I'm the one that brought it up.”

Hannibal nodded then, clearly gathering his thoughts for a moment. “Please remove your pants and underwear then, and sit on the counter. I'll get you a towel to sit on.”

Will did as he was told, finding the movement mechanical and fluid. No shame roiled up from the pit of his stomach as he had expected. He even skimmed off the wrinkled button down he was wearing, even though Hannibal hadn't told him to.

When Hannibal turned back with the towel in hand, Will was standing half naked by the counter. Hannibal took him in with the barest flicker of acknowledgement. A darkening of his eyes and a knot of muscle in his jaw. Hardly anything to note, but Will knew on anyone else, the look would have been more of gaping hunger. But everything… Even scalding lust was contained and controlled with Hannibal. Just the barest glimpse of ankle under a petticoat.

Will for his part was passive as a lamb as Hannibal helped him up onto the towel-covered countertop. He could already feel his blood humming, edging slowly downward as Hannibal began stropping the blade again. 

“The process will be the same as before. A warm cloth and then the foam. Though of course this will take longer.” Hannibal didn't look at Will as he spoke, making Will suspect the talking was meant to be a distraction for Hannibal himself. Will certainly didn’t need to be told what to do or what was going to happen. He felt the whole situation to be blissfully beyond his grasp.

The warm cloth felt amazing, and the foam even better, though Hannibal was obviously avoiding any motion that would be too arousing. 

“Have you ever done this before?” Will asked, his own voice feeling like an echo in the silence of the tiled room. “For someone else I mean.”

“No.” Hannibal replied, still not looking Will in the eye. “Never for someone else.”

“Yourself then?”

“Yes.”

“All the time or-”

“Always.” Came the answer.

Arousal coiled hot and low in Will’s belly. Suddenly he regretted removing his over shirt. It would have masked the blush creeping over his chest and neck.

Then Hannibal set aside the shaving mug and brush and took up the razor again. He thumbed at its edge before finally looking up at Will. “I don't think I need to warn you to be absolutely still.”

Will resorted to a nod. Speaking was absolutely out of the question. The sight of Hannibal Lecter sitting between his knees with a hand resting at the fold of his hip nearly undid him.

Satisfied and at least feigning unawareness of Will’s thoughts, Hannibal set the edge of the razor into the thicket of dark hair that began just below Will's belly button . He pulled the skin taut with his thumb and let the blade begin to slide.

It was so much more intense to be shaved here than his face. Not just because of the ghostly little touches against Will's cock but just because of the image. Hannibal's intense eyes focused nowhere else but Will's groin, his tongue occasionally teasing out to rake against his teeth. Will had to grip the edge of the counter tight and look away to steady his breathing or else risk becoming too aroused.

“Are you alright, Will?” Hannibal asked, his hands never ceasing their work.

“Yeah. I just… This is intense. It's going to feel… Really different now isn't it?”

“You've never tried to do this to yourself?”

“Once in college. With a cheap razor. Which is why I never tried again.” Will laughed and scruffed a hand over his face to find no scruff at all. His own touch lingered there, exploring and reveling. “Why do you do it?”  
“Heightened sensation.” Hannibal replied,  
his focus on his hands redoubling. “You will see what I mean.”

“I'm sure I will.” Will let his eyes wander back down to where Hannibal was working. Hannibal was keeping his motions unbearably clinical. He even used the warm towel to hold Will’s thickening cock out of his way. His control seemed absolute whereas Will constantly was no more that the razor’s edge from rutting into the damp heat.

Will wasn't sure, but it had to be almost an hour since they'd started. An hour spent white-knuckled and worrying the inside of his lip raw as Hannibal carefully and placidly worked. He never outwardly displayed his own arousal, but Will could see the faint outline of it. Almost like a heat shimmer each time his nostrils flared, catching the scent of Will’s body.

When he was finished, Hannibal set the razor down with a click that resonated through the room like a pistol shot. Before then it had only been filled with the thick sounds of Will's breathing, and the pounding rush of his blood in his ears.

“There.” Hannibal said as he wiped him down with the damp towel, his movements still economic and cold. It was an odd statement serving only to highlight the silence and tension saturating the air. He rested one hand on Will's thigh, bringing the other to touch his cheek. “Now that will be as soft and sensitive as this.”

The touch, and the feel of Hannibal's fingers just barely sinking into his hair, broke the dam of Will's self control. He surged forward, hand winding around Hannibal's starched shirt collar to drag him up for a kiss. Their mouths crashed together with enough force to let Hannibal get a taste of blood from his raw lip as his tongue skated past his teeth.

Even in spite of the ravening force Will had displayed, Hannibal remained gentle and reverent. After the initial crush, he cradled Will's smooth jaw in both hands as he began to explore, kissing a wide circle over his mouth before gently sucking his swollen bottom lip between his teeth. 

Will was truly hard now, his cock throbbing and twitching with each kiss. “As sensitive as my face?” He asked pulling back.

Hannibal nodded, struck dumb for what Will was sure was the first time in his life.

“Will you show me?” He couldn’t bring himself to specify, though he was shamefully sure of what he was asking.

“Yes…” The word hissed out of Hannibal's mouth, his accent dripping from it like honey.

He settled himself into the chair again, kissing a trail down to the freshly shaven creases of Will's thighs. He nuzzled the smooth, pink skin there, licking and kissing as he worked his way down. The sensation was undeniably intense. That had been no exaggeration on Hannibal’s part, but Will hadn't realized how much until he felt Hannibal's warm palm cupping his now smooth balls. He arched back against the mirror with a reedy moan, as Hannibal laid a slow, lazy circle of wet, open kisses around the base of his cock. He couldn’t watch. He couldn’t, or else he would come right here.

His cock was twitching and leaking freely now. Hannibal licked him clean with the broad flat of his tongue before sucking his length deep into his mouth. Will clung to him with his teeth bared, one hand on his shoulder and the other tangling in the silky strands of his hair. 

Now he couldn't tear his eyes away though the sight was undoing him. Hannibal looked a disheveled mess. His crisp white shirt rumpled, and normally perfectly combed hair tousled across his pleasure slackened face. Though the truest measure of how completely Hannibal was abandoned to the task was the thin line of spit that leaked unhindered from the corner of his mouth and down his furiously working throat. 

Will skated his thumbs over the ample arch of his cheekbones, half expecting them to slice to the bone. “Hannibal…” He whispered brokenly, expecting him to look up, but he didn't. Instead, he hummed contentedly around Will's cock and took him down even deeper. The hum cut off with a gurgling choke, but he never let up. Will could feel the slick clutch of his throat around the head of his cock, squeezing with every swallow.

“Hannibal, I'm… I'm going to come if you…” He didn't even get all of the warning out before Hannibal was gripping his hips, clinging on to Will as though he were about to be ripped from his grasp. 

Will felt as if every nerve ending was lit on fire, and his orgasm rippled out under his skin in a white blinding flash of ecstasy. He spilled into Hannibal's eager, hungry mouth with a strangled cry. 

He almost apologized, but the words hung in his throat when he saw the utterly blissed out expression on Hannibal's face. He hadn't even pulled his lips off his cock, but just kept gently suckling and savoring his softening length.

After what seemed like a hazy, incandescent eternity, Hannibal let him fall from his swollen lips. He made to sit back but Will held on to his neck, knitting his trembling fingers into his hair.

“I told you that you would be more sensitive.” Hannibal said, his voice roughened with exertion. “Do you see?”

Will could only nod. There was meaning in those words far beyond anything his endorphin-soaked brain could process. Instead he asked, “What can I give you?”

“You needn't reciprocate if-” 

Hannibal was regaining his armor with alarming speed, and so Will cut him off. “Tell me what I can give you.”

Hannibal licked his reddened lips, worrying at them as if to steal one final, lingering taste of Will’s ecstasy. “Let me have the pleasure of my handiwork.”

“You want me on the bed or-”

“Here.” Hannibal replied quickly, fumbling in the cabinet for another small glass bottle which turned out to be lube.

Will blinked hard. Words rattled clumsily against his teeth as he tried to get them out. “I've… I've never-”

“I don't intend to fuck you.” He said softly. Will was sure if he hadn't come in the last five minutes, he would have been hard enough to cut diamonds just from the way Hannibal's mouth looked when he said “fuck”

“You don't?”

“No, but your skin is so soft…” Hannibal was slicking himself and rubbing more lubricant along the bare crease of Will's thigh. “I want it like this. If you’ll have me…” He began to unceremoniously rut into the hollow of Will's hip alongside his over sensitive cock.

“Oh…” Will barely formed the shape of the word as he let his arms slip down to snake around Hannibal’s shoulders. He watched, pupils blown wide with lust and wonder, as the scene played out before him. Hannibal Lecter… Controlled, cool, collected Dr. Hannibal Lecter was grinding himself against Will’s freshly shaven crotch with all the desperation of a horny teenager. But shamefully, with his head drooping against Will's shoulder and turned away from his sight.

Will felt pity mixed with white hot desire cut through the fog of his post-orgasm euphoria. He cradled Hannibal against him, hooking his ankles behind his back and dragging his face up for a fierce kiss. Their tongues clashed and found a rhythm that matched his increasingly erratic thrusting.

Hannibal pulled back to meet Will’s gaze, his eyes gone glassy with desperate want. “Will…” He moaned.

“Go on. “ Will encouraged, thumbing his cheekbone again.

Hannibal was feral as he came, baring teeth that bit back something far more savage. Will watched, suddenly struck with a dull want to see all the ways he could take Hannibal apart. To catch a glimpse of whatever familiar savagery he kept tamed in his peacockish suits and carefully culled and curated words. He wanted to coax it out and fan it to full flame...

As Hannibal pulled back to see the mess they had made he let out a little huff of laughter. “This was not my original intention.”

“Do you regret it?”

“I may regret the dry cleaning bill.” He replied, still not looking up.

Will hooked his finger under Hannibal's chin and forced him to meet his eyes. “But that's all?”

“That's all.” He replied shakily.

Will folded his arms around Hannibal. “Good. Let's shower and save the awkwardness for tomorrow.”

Hannibal’s face brightened unabashedly. “Over breakfast perhaps? If you can stay?” The hopefulness in his voice shook Will’s very bones.

“Yes, I'll stay.” He said, tangling his fingers through Hannibal's hair and breathing in the scent of their sex. “But only if I can use that magnificent shower.”


End file.
